Rushed
by AliceJericho
Summary: 'Snow White once sang, "some day my prince will come." Well, I can guarantee you that Josh Harter is not my prince.' - There's a good reason Mollie Jarrett doesn't like Halloween and that reason is Chris Sabin.


_October 31, 2003_

I've asked myself the same question my entire life: _why would anyone want to live in Canada?_ I mean, it's way too cold for human habitation and everyone speaks like they were born with a mental defect.

Nonetheless, I decided to join dad on a weekend trip to Windsor. It's probably the most boring city in Canada. If it can even be classified as Canada, that is. It's basically Detroit except they say 'aboot' instead of 'about' and 'hoose' instead of 'house'.

We were in Windsor because dad wanted to look at the talent in Can-Am Wrestling School. Scott D'Amore had provided TNA with Chris Sabin and dad wanted to know if the school could produce any more good wrestlers.

I followed closely behind my dad as he opened the door to an old building which was home to the company.

"Scott!" Dad called out when no one was in the main area.

"Surely they know what heating is." I mumbled under my breath. Even inside it was freezing. I suppose it has to do with wrestling and heating not mixing well, but from the lack of wrestling going on in the ring I'm sure they could have turned it up at least a little.

"Good afternoon, Jeff." Scott D'Amore appeared in front of us before I've even fully taken in the room. The stench of B.O. was overwhelming and I wanted to vomit every time I inhaled. "And good afternoon, Mollie!"

"Afternoon," I greeted back with a warm smile.

"Are you here to start training, Mollie?" Scott asked me with a somewhat hopeful smile and I shook my head.

"No, sir."

"Mollie, here, wants to be a lawyer." Dad said with a proud smile on his face. I nodded silently, a smile creeping onto my own face, as Scott looked at me in surprise.

"You're too smart to be hanging around here, then!"

"It's better than stayin' home with my sisters, sir." I told him with a slight laugh and he nodded in understanding.

"How about I introduce to some of the people here? That way you don't have to listen to your dad and I talk boring wrestling talk."

I followed him into a side room that had weight sets and other exercise equipment.

"Petey," Scott got the attention of a man who was just about to bench press my body weight and then some. It was probably nothing considering he was training to be a professional wrestler and I barely weighed 120 pounds, but I could barely even lift 70.

"Yeah?" the young man asked with a raised eyebrow.

"This is Mollie, she's Jeff's daughter. Mollie, this is Petey."

The young man stood up from the bench, wiped his hands on his shorts before extending his right one to me. I hesitantly held out mine and let him shake it.

"How's it going?"

"Yeah." I said with a small nod and he frowned at me.

"You play nice now, okay? Jeff and I hold your future in our hands, Petey." Scott left after Petey sent him an unsure smile and a small nod. The Canadian turned back to me.

"Is that a southern thing?"

"Beg your pardon?"

"You didn't answer my question, you just said 'yeah'. Is that what they do in the South?"

"Actually, I think it's just somethin' I do, but thanks for generalisin'." I snapped at him and he held his hands up in defence.

"What are you doing here? You want to be a wrestler?" he asked me, sitting back down on the bench. I shook my head and crossed my arms under my bust.

"I'm gonna be a lawyer." I told him.

"A liar? Is that an actual profession?" I paused for a second, not sure what he had just said but when it registered in my brain I scoffed.

"A _lawyer_, you dumb fuck." I spat at him. "And don't you dare say anything about my accent because you sound like you were dropped on your head."

"I hope, for your sake, your bite is as big as your bark." He leant back on the bench and placed his hands on the bar.

"You should probably have a spotter for that." I told him, recounting the numerous times I had heard guys struggling backstage under the weights they'd dropped onto their chests. Petey lifted his head slightly, shook it, rolled his eyes and went back to his business.

"Is, uh, Josh around here somewhere?" I asked after watching the Canadian do a few reps. He sighed heavily and set the weight down, sitting back up. "Harter?"

"He's probably out back with Ajay."

"He has a girlfriend?" I asked, entirely confused. In all the time that he'd been with TNA – which was actually only about six months – he had not once mentioned having a girlfriend. Or even about asking someone out.

"No, Ajay isn't his girlfriend."

"So if I go interrupt them, she's not gonna skin me alive?"

"I didn't say that." Petey smirked at me.

"Whatever, you're infuriatin'." I turned on my heel, and pulled the door open. "Later, midget."

No one was in the main section of the building – the ring was still empty – but they hadn't turned the heater up at all. I pulled the hood of my jacket up onto my head and held it closed tightly around my neck to keep out the chill.

"Fuckin' Canucks."

I wandered through the building, bumping into a few unfamiliar people as I did so. I apologised for intruding and went on my way. Petey said Josh was probably out back with Ajay, he meant _literally_ out back. I pushed open a large metal door and saw the Josh sitting on the ground with a small blonde girl.

Both of them looked up at the same time, Josh smiled at me but the girl dropped her gaze.

"Mollie, what are you doing here?" Josh stood up, looked down at the blonde quickly, and walked over to me, hugging me.

"Dad needed to talk to Scott. Lord knows why he couldn't have done it in Nashville… But I thought I'd tag along."

"It's always good to see you, Mollie. Welcome to Can-Am. What do you think?"

"It's _freezing_."

"You get used to it." Josh told me but I shook my head.

"I don't _want to_." He laughed at me. I looked over his shoulder to get a glimpse of his friend, when he noticed; he stepped out of the way and introduced her.

"This is Ashton Reso. But everyone calls her Ajay. Ajay, this is Mollie Jarrett." Ajay looked up at me, nodded, but then broke eye contact. I looked at Josh confused but he was pouting at her sadly.

"Do you mind if I steal him?" I asked her quickly before he could sit back down – which is what he had moved to do. "He's the only person I know here."

"Oh, uh," she hesitated, "Yeah, I guess."

"You should come inside, Ajay. You'll get sick." Josh said as he held out his hand to help Ajay off the ground.

I followed the two of them inside. I was convinced Petey had been lying to me when said Josh didn't have a girlfriend because it was clear to me that they had something going on.

* * *

"I really think you need to be told how ridiculous you look."

"You're going to look stupider than I am, it's a Halloween party and you haven't got a costume."

"You don't understand how little I care." Josh looked at me and rolled his eyes.

Dad had told me that his discussion with Scott was going to take a lot longer than expected, so he had asked Josh to look after me. It's something he does quite often – though back in Nashville James is my babysitter.

I had gone to dinner with my dad and Scott and then been dropped off at Josh's house before we were to head off to Jeremy's house. I had no idea who Jeremy was, but Scott seemed to think it was a good idea and subsequently dad did, too.

"I can't believe you dressed up as Axl Rose." I told him again. Josh only smirked at me and flicked the hair of his wig over his shoulder.

"You kind of look like you're trying to be CM Punk. But failing." I gave him a confused look.

"Who the fuck is CM Punk?"

"An indy wrestler. He's heading your way next month." I shrugged carelessly. I didn't care about the talent that went through TNA. I had my friends in James, Allen and the idiot I was in the car with. All of them were males and James and Allen were nine years older than me, but they were still my friends.

When we arrived, it looked like we were late. I doubt there was any set time on an invitation for when the party was going to start, but they all looked positively drunk when I got out of Josh's car and waited for him to fix up his costume in the car before he appeared by my side.

"Ready to get drunk?"

"I thought you'd never ask." I half sighed. Now, don't get me wrong, at seventeen years old drinking isn't something I do every weekend… But it's fun and tastes good. Especially when it's free.

When we walked inside, Josh immediately walked off and into another room, leaving me to fend for myself amongst the crazy costumes. There was half a bottle of Jack on a table by the front door, so I grabbed it by the neck and walked further into the house in search of a glass and some cola.

"'Sup?" I looked to my left as an arm appeared over my shoulder and laughed when I saw Slash standing beside me.

"Yeah." I said shortly, ducking out from under his arm and walking into the kitchen. I rolled my eyes when a couple pulled away from each other and pretended I hadn't just interrupted a very heated make out session. "I'm not here." I said, raising the bottle at them. They instantly went back to making out and I continued to search for a glass.

"Who are you supposed to be anyway?" I turned my head to see Slash raising his eyebrow at me.

"CM Punk." I said shortly – remembering Josh's comment in the car – and turned back to the cabinet I was searching through and pulled out a tall glass.

Slash gave me a quick glance up and down before he nodded slowly. "I guess I see it. The hoodie and the Converse. Should be wearing a pair of fighting shorts, but it's cold so I'll forgive you."

"That's all I was looking for!" I put down my glass and the bottle of Jack, placing my hands over my heart. "Now that you've forgiven me I can finally live my life."

"Snarky." I scoffed and poured some Jack Daniels into the glass. "They say one part of Jack to four parts coke, not the other way around."

I ignored the wannabe rocker and walked to the fridge, helping myself to the near empty bottle of coke. I normally wouldn't be acting like this in a stranger's home, but seeing as no one seemed to care what was going on, I figured it was a free-for-all.

I spent the better half of two hours sitting in an armchair watching the drunken wrestlers try to put on matches. Josh's friend Ashton – who was dressed as Dorothy – was sitting on the opposite side of the room and I could see she was fighting a smile though she looked genuinely concerned that someone would get hurt.

I guess she was just returning the favour because the boys had been hovering around her all night and protecting her from Lord knows what. It was frustrating, actually. I mean, seriously, don't bother to make sure the new girl isn't feeling lonely or secluded but by all means you should _all_ go to the girl who knows _everyone_.

I grabbed a beer from the fridge – after skirting around the flailing arms and legs of a Mexican drug dealer and a ninja, both of whom had Canadian accents – and wandered out the front door, sitting on the front porch just like I would back home.

Of course, back home it was considerably warmer when I sat on the front porch, but anything was better than sitting inside watching a bunch of 20 something guys trying to hurt each other. I put up with that enough in Nashville.

"I thought it was too cold for you."

"There's only so much of Slash I can put up with." I brought the beer to my lips, felt the liquid warm my body up instantly and continued, "I assume you're his friend because you've got the whole Guns N' Roses thing goin' on."

Josh sat down beside me on the stairs, taking a sip of his own beer. He laughed.

"Yeah, he's my best friend, actually." I nodded with a smirk. Of course. We sat in silence for a few moments before I looked to him, noticing that he was staring at me.

"What are you looking at?"

"You're his type." He told me and I raised an eyebrow.

"What's that exactly?"

"Tall, skinny and blonde." I took a sip of my drink.

"Isn't that every guy's type, though?" I asked curiously, "Oh, no! Wait! You prefer your blonde's small, don't you?" his cheeks went red at my statement. "Why don't you just ask her out? She wants it, too."

"It's not that simple."

"'Hey, do you want to go out with me?' How much more simple can it get?" Josh shook his head at me and stared at the ground. I put the beer down behind me and wrapped my arms around my waist. "She have a boyfriend, then?"

"I don't really want to talk about it."

"You're only sayin' that because she's already rejected you, am I right?"

"No, you're not." He said pointedly.

"Seriously, darlin', you just gotta go for it. I mean, you look like the kind of guy who could get any girl he wanted to." I paused, "_Almost_ any girl you wanted you."

"I can get any girl I want." He said sharply and I chuckled. "You don't think so?"

"You couldn't get a Southern girl." He raised an eyebrow. "You ain't got nothin' on a farmer, Josh. _Nothin'."_

He chose to ignore my comment and instead stood up, "We should go inside before you get sick."

"I'd rather freeze than go back in there." I said quietly. "I get the feelin' they don't particularly like me."

"Then grab your beer and we can go sit in the car." He put his hand out to me and I took hold of it, letting him pull me to his feet just as he had done with Ashton earlier that evening.

As soon as the heater in the car had started to work, I began to feel better. The feeling I had lost in my fingers returned and my nose was thanking me for getting out of the cold.

"The guys in there don't have a problem with you; they just don't think you want to be there." He told me as he threw his leather jacket into the car's backseat.

"That's because I don't." my answer didn't seem to surprise him and he didn't make any move to reply to me.

In the reflection of the glass, I watched him play with his wig. Constantly moving it to scratch beneath it or to make it sit more comfortably.

"Sweet Jesus!" I cried, grabbing at his hand, pulling it away from the back of his neck. "Take the fuckin' thing off." With my other hand I grabbed onto the top of the wig and tugged it off his head, throwing it onto the dashboard.

Once I let go of his hand, it was back to his head to fix up his hair. I laughed at him, swatting his hands away, leaning over the gear stick to fix his hair for him. The corner of his mouth twitched up as he raised his hands to brush my hair out of my face.

"I can see why Pat's been hitting on you all night." He breathed, leaning in closer to me.

"I can see why Ashton lights up when you enter the room." I moved closer yet again.

Moments passed and he kissed the corner of my mouth. I smiled and turned my head ever so slightly to kiss him square on the lips. I felt his lips partially open and it was followed by a nipping at my bottom lip.

I knew the action all too well. It was a habit of my ex-boyfriend and I should have felt pain that he made me remember the sudden, painful ending of my first relationship but it didn't. It made me happy; it made me feel wanted again.

Our lips collided, our teeth clashed and our tongues met. I was taken aback slightly by the passion that accompanied the kiss but it only made me more willing to continue.

I shifted awkwardly – not at all liking having to lean over the gear stick – and he quickly changed that. With a strength I'd never experienced before, he put his hands on my hips and lifted me onto his lap. My legs hit the gear stick and everything around it and it took much more shifting before I was comfortable, but once I was, it felt significantly better than leaning.

As I ran my fingers through is hair, tangling them at the bottom of his neck, he unzipped my sweatshirt. When it was off, he threw it into the backseat of the car and placed his hands on my waist, underneath my shirt.

"Leather fucking pants." I mumbled as I tugged on the belt loops. "Couldn't have just gone for the boxer shorts." He pushed his lips back against mine so I couldn't say anything more.

I felt warm as his hands squeezed my waist despite the temperature outside the car. He pushed my shirt up further, resting his hands against my rib cage. I gripped onto his biceps and was again transported to thoughts about my ex.

His arms weren't as big as Josh's were. I'd never gone much further than second base with Tommy so Josh was making me feel things I didn't even know I could feel. And all he was doing was kissing me.

His hands grazed the sides of bra as he pulled my long sleeve shirt over my head and tossed it to join our jackets. I moaned as he squeezed at my left breast with one hand while the other began to unzip my jeans.

I moved my hands to rest on his abs under his shirt and slowly pushed it up his chest, our lips disconnected again as I yanked his Guns N' Roses shirt over his head. His lips touched my neck and I felt myself shiver.

I shivered again when he pushed my jeans down my hips slightly.

"I'm drunk." I giggled unexpectedly and he stopped, his thumbs now hooked in the sides of my panties.

"Stop?" he asked me slowly, but I shook my head and kicked my shoes off haphazardly.

"No! No! Go!" I giggled again, leaning my head against his shoulder and lifting myself so I was no longer straddling him, helping him push my jeans and panties down my legs.

"Music!" I said suddenly and enthusiastically as I dropped back down, shifting to turn up the volume of the car radio. Josh swore and I flinched when whatever song he had on CD began to play. "No music!"

When I was facing Josh again I smiled at him widely and he just smirked and shook his head, using his hands on my cheeks to bring our lips back together. His hands slowly slid down my body, getting caught on my bra as they did so, before they stopped on my ass and squeezed.

I squeezed and jumped slightly, bumping my head on the low roof. Before I could even rub the sore spot, he had leaned the chair back and we were basically lying horizontally in the car.

I was wearing nothing but my bra and by all means I should have been cold but the alcohol running through my veins and the warmth of Josh's body ensured that I wasn't.

He grasped my ass again, this time I enjoyed the feeling. He pulled me against him, grinding as he did so and I was brought back to the reality in which he was still wearing his pants.

I moved my hands from his shoulders to the fly of his leather pants and unzipped them quickly. We moved around as he lifted off the seat and I pulled them down his legs, stopping at his knees because I was too impatient to try get them off completely. He brought our bodies back together and all I could feel was him through his boxer shorts.

He forced me to look at him, and he smiled. I smiled back somewhat nervously, but it was a smile nonetheless. He released my body and pushed down his boxers slightly.

I couldn't stop the gasp that came from my mouth as I looked down between our bodies.

He kissed me again harshly, I had no idea why he was being so brutal until he pushed inside me. It was only a fraction but I gasped and bit down on his lip forcefully to the point where I could taste blood.

I whimpered as he pushed himself in further, his hands on my hips guiding me. I grabbed fistfuls of his light brown hair and held onto them tightly. He grunted but made no sign that I was hurting him. Not that he could considering what he was doing to me.

I cried out in pain as he made one last, rough, push to get his whole length inside of me. I felt tears sting the corners of my eyes and I buried my face into his shoulder, still holding onto his hair tightly.

"Fuck." He swore in a moan as he moved backwards and forwards. He was working a lot harder than I imagine he should have been considering I was practically dead weight on top of him.

Josh's fingers dug further into my hips. "Mollie." He groaned and I bit my lip, feeling another cry of pain coming on. I couldn't contain it though and I screamed into his shoulder. He momentarily stopped, using a hand to grab my head and put it in front of his face.

"Okay?" He asked me, only a tiny bit concerned.

"Okay." I managed to mumble back, "Slower." I said in trepidation, unsure of how he would respond to that request.

Though he nodded his head and let go of mine, moving his hand back to my waist.

I, again, buried my head in his shoulder, waiting for him to continue. When he did, the pain was more tolerable, not completely gone but I at least had time to adjust every now and then.

My cries changed not long after. They were a mixture of pain and pleasure, a pleasure I had never felt before and didn't think I ever wold again.

I managed to moan out his name, the tears still spilling over the corners of my eyes, I ignored them in favour of all the good things Josh was doing to me.

I felt my insides tighten and a knotted feeling at the base of my stomach and then the most wonderful feeling in the world washed over me. I bit into his shoulder to muffle the scream I knew I was going to emit.

He grunted at me and continued to move against me despite what had just happened. His movements go faster and I felt the pain return as he suddenly became desperate. I sobbed as he came with one last push, the pain too much for me to bear.

Josh slumped against the seat and his heavy breathing felt hot on my neck. I leant back slightly, pushing my blonde hair away from my face, as it had been matted to my forehead and was bothering me.

Josh looked at me with a furrowed brow and raised his hands to wipe at my cheeks with his thumb. I brushed it away quickly, and hurriedly moved back across the gear stick, this time kicking over the bottle of beer I had brought to the car.

"Sorry." I mumbled quietly, reaching down to pick up the bottle and I sighed heavily when I noticed that it had spilt over the car floor. "A towel or something?" I asked quickly, looking around frantically to try and find something to clean it up. I blindly reached into the bag and pulled out my long sleeve shirt and instantly went to mop up the spilt alcohol.

"Hey! Hey!" Josh said before I could even touch the liquid, grabbing at my arm. At his touch, I flinched backwards and pulled my arm to my chest, using the shirt to cover my nakedness. "What the fuck's wrong?"

"Nothing!" I snapped at him, "Where are my pants?"

"Calm down! Seriously!" he shouted at me, "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

I stared at him blankly. Actually, I stared over his head because I didn't want to look him in the eye.

"Mollie, honest to god, tell me what's wrong."

"How can you not know?!" I barked at him, turned around in the car seat as best I could without exposing myself. I couldn't see them in the backseat. When Josh began to pull up his own pants, I saw my jeans and panties lying on the floor at his feet. I didn't lean over to get them.

"Am I a fucking mind reader?" he questioned and I felt tears of frustration well up in my eyes.

"Do you always make girls cry when you have sex with them?" I asked him seriously.

"You haven't had much sex, I get it. It happens, okay? It hurts the first few times but you get over it."

"The first few times?" I mumbled in slight horror before recomposing myself. "Thanks for the fucking warning."

"Why are you so angry at me?!" he said, raking his hand through his hair and staring at the roof. "What have I done wrong?"

"I haven't had much sex?" I repeated what he had said before, "I hadn't had _any_ sex until just now." In one jolted motion I ripped my jeans out from under his legs, thankful that my panties had been caught inside them. I shimmied them back on at the same time, getting them awkwardly twisted but that was the last thing on my mind.

"What?"

"_Virgin_." I explained to him as I pulled my shirt over my head, grabbed the now almost empty beer bottle and opened the car door.

"Where are you going?" he had put his hand on my arm again, but I ripped it away.

"Anywhere that isn't here." I slammed the door shut, opened the back door, reached in for my sweatshirt and then slammed that one too.

Josh was still speaking to me as I shut the door, I realised what he was saying as water began to soak through my socks. I looked at my feet, glanced back at the car, but decided that I would rather suffer through that than the awkwardness of returning to the car.

I walked through the front door of Jeremy's house – I still didn't know who he was – and went straight through to the kitchen, pulling a fresh drink out of the fridge. As I put it to my lips and tilted my head back, I brushed my hair from my face. I wiped at the dried tears near my eyes and figured that I probably looked as bad as I felt so I ducked into the bathroom.

It was as expected, I had panda eyes and my hair was an absolute mess. I didn't care, though. I just put my sweatshirt on and pulled the hood up.

"Where'd you disappear to, princess?" I looked into the mirror and saw Slash leaning against the door.

"Don't call me that."

"You okay? You look a bit frazzled." He sounded genuinely concerned, but I was not about to tell him what had happened – no doubt he would hear it from his best friend.

"Fine."

"Your make up would suggest otherwise." I turned around and shrugged at him. "I get it, you don't like me and you don't want to talk about it."

"Something like that." I took a deep breath, "Do you have a phone I could borrow?"

"Yeah, sure. Why?" he asked as he fished it out of his pockets.

"Want to call dad." I took the phone from his head.

"What happened to your shoes?" I wiggled my toes as I punched in dad's number.

"Things."

* * *

"Are you really going to get in the car like that? You're a mess."

"You do wonders for a girl's confidence, Slash, really."

"I'm just saying that he's going to ask questions."

"Not really," I shook my head, "He's going to think I'm drunk. I can live with that."

"I guess I'll see you around, anyway. Maybe in Nashville." I said with a small smile, walking back into the living room.

"Put in a good word for me?" he asked hopefully.

"It doesn't work like that." I told him knowingly and he huffed slightly but messed up my hair and pulled my hood up.

"My name's Pat, by the way."

"Congratulations." I said back out of habit. It was something I'd picked up in high school, to say 'congratulations' when someone told you a piece of information that didn't interest you, or that you hadn't asked for. I turned back to face him and smiled, "I'm Mollie."

As I walked through the living room, I pasted past a drunken couple making out, before standing directly in front of Josh.

"Shoes?" I asked shortly. My socks had sort of dried, but dampness didn't bother me – I wasn't going to walk outside without shoes on again. He looked up at me and his eyes widened, realising who had come to speak to him. He rose to his feet and pointed to the front door.

"Front door." He answered and he followed me as I moved to get them. "Are you… Will you? Okay?"

"I'll be fine." I told him as I sat down on the hardwood floor to put on my Converse. I didn't look up at him, but he was fidgeting. "Are _you_ okay?" I had to ask, though I didn't look up at him or even care what his answer was.

"You aren't going to tell Jeff, are you?" Josh asked worriedly and I laughed bitterly, yanking my left shoe onto my foot harshly.

"Don't worry about your fucking job. He's never going to know." I didn't bother tying up the shoe laces; once they were on my feet I stood up hurriedly and glared at him. He still looked worried as I turned my back on him and violently threw the front door open.

"I'm sorry!" he called out at me as I walked down the front path to the car dad was sitting in.

"Yeah."

* * *

**a/n I really just love Mollie, I think she's the most developed of all of my characters. ****In this one shot it's Halloween 2003 (if you hadn't guessed), and Mollie's 17 going on 18 in Jan of 2004. There will be a part following this, I may add it as a new chapter or new story completely I'm not sure, but look out for it some time in the future!**

**Thank you so much to Maggie (_cherrybomb13__) _who helped me flesh this story out, being totally invested in it and asking me seriously helpful questions! ****Ashley _(Kennedy's Friday Night Delight_) owns Ashton, I own Mollie and everyone else owns themselves.**

**Please review and let me know what you though of it! And check out the poll, and my 'What If?' project on my page!**


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